


Age and Beauty

by KinkyTrashCan



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Age Difference, Arius doesn't kink shame, Arius has all the kinks, Arkham is a sleazy bastard, Breeding, Contemplated abortion, Daddy Arkham, Dante is a masochist, Demon gender is complicated, Demon/Human Sex, Demonic gang-bang, Dominance, Drugging, Experimentation, Forced Breeding, M/M, Manipulation, Mpreg, Nero and Dante have a dick and vagina, Post-Pregnancy Sex, Potential Pregnancy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Rough Sex, Sanctus is a creep, Vergil Has a Vagina (Devil May Cry), Vergil is constantly horny, Weird demon biology, belly bulge, breast feeding, demons with animal characteristics, dub-con, intersex part-demons, mommy Vergil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28350801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinkyTrashCan/pseuds/KinkyTrashCan
Summary: Three descendants of Sparda and three men who had power over them.(Unrelated PWP one-shots.  Content warnings will be noted in each individual chapter.)
Relationships: Arius/Dante, Arkham | Jester/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil - Relationship, Nero/Sanctus (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 62





	1. Ripened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil gives birth to his precious son, but when he fails to show any gratitude, Arkham finds a way to remind him just how their partnership works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter specific CW: M-preg, Post pregnancy sex, rough sex, age gap, manipulation, dub-con, breeding, demon biology, demon gender is complicated, Vergil has a pussy, drugging, breast feeding, dominance, contemplated abortion, Daddy Arkham, Momgil, Arkham is a sleazy bastard, Vergil is constantly horny
> 
> This is entirely PWP, but the background ‘plot’ is that Arkham wanted to make sure he had a backup Sparda in case things didn’t work out with the twins, so laced Vergil’s food with potent demonic concoctions. This has the effect of sending Vergil’s libido through the roof while making him fertile enough for Arkham to knock him up.

Vergil wasn’t entirely sure how he had ended up in this particular situation. Oh, meeting Arkham and forming an alliance to raise Temen-ni-gru was clear. Making plans to draw out Dante to take his half of the amulet was a matter of course. But lying flat on his back, exhausted from childbirth, and watching Arkham clean the viscera off Vergil’s newborn son was another thing entirely.

This all had started soon after they made their pact to retrieve Sparda’s hidden power. Vergil found himself suffering from certain cravings, ones that he had always been able to ignore in the past but that were now intolerable. He hadn’t suffered for too long before Arkham started prying, and Vergil only had to snap at him once for the scholar to do what needed to be done.

If he was honest, Vergil hadn’t expected Arkham to be particularly virile, but he suspected the man had bargained for a few enhancements when he’d made deals with demons in the past. His stamina was almost equal to Vergil’s own, and that fat, veiny cock was too perfect to be natural. Even more, Arkham seemed to know exactly when Vergil was in need of release, holding him down and fucking him until he could get himself under control again. He didn’t remember exactly what happened that first time the human had bent him over the rickety wooden desk littered with ancient tomes, but the enormous cock pounding his dripping pussy had been a relief Vergil felt right down into his core. 

Pants pooled around his knees, ass smacking wetly against another person’s skin, white knuckled grip on the edges of the desk. Arkham had fucked him impossibly hard, lifting his hips up until his feet left the floor so he could angle deep enough into Vergil’s guts to strike the places that had him howling in pleasure. He’d hammered so fast and savagely that Vergil’s multiple orgasms blended into an infinite haze of pleasure, and he nearly drooled on a first century manuscript before it fell to the floor from the force of their fucking.

At the end of that marathon of sexual ecstasy, with thick, creamy cum painting his thighs in a canvas of lust, Vergil had finally felt like himself again. For a time, anyway.

The cravings came back with a vengeance the next morning, and they repeated their maddened fornication several times a day after that just so he could concentrate on their scheme. Vergil had stopped bothering with his underwear because it was too much trouble to take on and off. Easier to shuck off his pants and let Arkham have his way with him.

But ending up pregnant had never been part of the plan.

Vergil was infuriated when he realized the reason his stomach was growing, and he had considered simply running himself through to get rid of the complication. It shouldn’t have been possible. He was a hybrid, hybrids were said to be sterile by every resource he’d ever read, but the developing child inside him begged to differ with all the scholarship, and for whatever reason, Vergil couldn’t bring himself to end it. And now he was so very grateful he hadn’t.

“Give him to me,” he demanded, holding out his arms the second Arkham turned towards him. The piteous cries of the baby plucked at deep strings in Vergil’s heart, and he was eager to finally meet his heir after all these long months.

Arkham hesitated. “You need rest,” he reasoned. “Let me tend to our son while you--”

“Give him to me,” Vergil repeated with more force. Our son. As if this man had any claim to the baby Vergil had birthed. He was simply a convenient sperm donor, a cock to slake his base thirsts on and nothing more.

Arkham stepped forward and carefully laid the boy onto Vergil’s bare chest, and instantly the crying died down into muted sniffling. The warm, fragile weight was unlike anything Vergil had ever experienced, unexpected joy welling up inside him until he had to remind himself to breathe. His infant son directly against his skin. Heartbeat to heartbeat. Nothing between them. This was everything he’d ever imagined and more, and Vergil couldn’t help but catalog every detail.

Downy silver-white hair, pale round cheeks, two crystal blue eyes.

The last feature sent a stab of satisfaction through Vergil. No sign of Arkham at all in this flawless babe, only Vergil’s blood. Another son of Sparda brought into the world, and Vergil would burn every last bit of it to ash to get the power that would protect this new life.

“What shall we name him, hmm?” Arkham asked, intruding into Vergil’s thoughts. “I’m rather partial to William--”

“Nero,” Vergil said with conviction. “His name is Nero.”

Terse lines formed on either side of Arkham’s mouth, lips tightening ever so slightly. It told Vergil that he’d irritated him, but what did that matter? It was Vergil’s right to name his son, after all, and while Nero hadn’t been near the top of the list of what he’d considered, all he had to do was look at this exquisite child to know that was, indeed, his name. Strong. Powerful. Covered by a soft, black blanket. Yes, this was  _ his _ son, his Nero.

Besides, there was no way in hell he was going to name the boy William now that Arkham had declared that his preference.

Nero grunted, pressing his little face against his mother’s naked chest and searching. With great care, Vergil shifted him down until the questing mouth latched on to a nipple, and his son immediately began to suckle. There had been a bit of doubt at the beginning that Vergil would be able to nurse, but after ruining a few of his favorite shirts with an embarrassing amount of leaking milk near the end of his pregnancy, it was clear that he could provide as much nourishment as Nero could possibly want. He barely registered the smile that overtook his face, just looking at his precious child.

Absolutely perfect in every way. His son.

Vergil would’ve completely forgotten that Arkham was even in the room had he not felt cool hands shift his thighs apart and a damp cloth removing the last traces of blood and fluids left over from labor. His body, stripped nude to make sure nothing would hamper the birth, was already knitting itself back together nicely, though he flinched when Arkham pressed the cloth slightly inside him.

“You seem quite sensitive just yet,” Arkham said, and Vergil spared him a glare when he knelt on the bed between Vergil’s knees.

From his reclined position, Vergil couldn’t see the man’s hands, but he felt the fingers brushing against his labia, feather light at first before they spread him and slid further in. Pain was never a deterrent for Vergil’s pleasure before, and despite being sore and stretched, the demon in his soul had him splaying his legs for easier access.

He settled himself into the pile of pillows, thumb sweeping over Nero’s cheekbone and enjoying Arkham’s annoyingly delicate ministrations. It wasn’t until he felt sudden pressure against his swollen clit that Vergil hissed at the man who had already undone his belt and had his cock in hand. As presumptuous as ever, this demon obsessed human.

The smug expression was back, and Arkham didn’t waste any time pressing his tip into Vergil’s still inflamed entrance. He kept their eyes locked, staring at Vergil, hunting for whatever weakness he could find, so Vergil refused to look away. The intrusion burned, but he was loose enough from the birth that Arkham was fully hilted in one easy thrust, tender lips parting wide to swallow the immense cock.

Arkham pulled out only to push back inside until his sack was tight against Vergil’s ass with no space between them. They didn’t exchange a word, still staring one another down and waiting for the first to break. Arkham set up a steady rhythm, dragging against sore flesh over and over but igniting the slow flame of Vergil’s need. It quickly clouded his mind, and only the thriving weight of Nero sucking on his tit offered a grounding force.

This was an attempt to dominate him, to show him who truly had control in their alliance, but it was so hard to inure himself against the heavy cock fraying his already damaged nerves, blistering them until they were craving more. It was like this every time, Vergil trying vainly to resist his needs and Arkham bursting past all his barriers to give him what his body wanted.

He hated it.

He  _ needed _ it.

The thumb rubbing his aching clit fed his desire, blazing brighter and bigger, ever closer to the peak until it suddenly stopped.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Vergil snapped.

“Ah, you really don’t like being teased, do you?” Arkham’s vile smirk made Vergil grit his teeth. “You know, it takes time for humans to recover enough to conceive again, but you’re no mere human. And you looked so lovely with a mother’s belly, rounded and pregnant with my child… Why don’t we find out just how fast you regain your fertility? For my research, of course.”

He shouldn’t even be thinking about this. He should kick this arrogant scholar to the floor and tell him to leave mother and son alone. Vergil had no desire for more children, not with Nero nursing at his breast right this very minute, but he felt the pull once more, the need to be filled, to be fucked until he could think clearly. It blurred his thoughts, and Vergil licked his lips when Arkham started rolling his hips again.

“Yes, that’s it, my dear. It feels good, doesn’t it?” Arkham crooned. And it did, damn him. It felt marvelous, a brilliant conflagration of pain and pleasure. This wretched human somehow sought out and found every secret inside Vergil, the curve of his cock hitting spots that made his vision dazzle on every single stroke. It got him off faster than anything ever had.

Arkham shifted his stance and thrust hard, skin slapping against skin, going impossibly deep and drawing a startled gasp out of Vergil. His palm settled on Vergil’s slowly flattening abdomen, caressing it possessively. “You’re wide open for me right now. I could reach right into your very womb, and nothing could stop me.”

Vergil hadn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction, but once again, he found his mouth hanging open as Arkham slid his hands under Vergil’s ass so he could get even deeper. Nero’s needy little noises kept him from falling completely under the man’s spell, and Vergil haltingly transferred his son to his other breast. He struggled to focus long enough to be sure Nero had latched before letting his head fall onto the pillow again.

It was so  _ good _ . Hard and thick, demanding, filling the empty space inside him and sparking pain and pleasure in equal parts. It hurt terribly to have such friction against his bruised flesh, but his hips moved desperately on their own. They lifted to meet each thrust in the hopes of reaching the heights and tumbling over into heady oblivion.

“Aaaah…. Aah, unnn….” His breathy moans made Arkham laugh.

“You are ever so beautiful when you surrender like this, my love” the man said, and if he’d been able to think at all, Vergil would’ve been furious. This was no surrender nor was there any  _ love _ for this accursed human. But he only moaned louder when Arkham pulled Vergil’s legs up over his shoulders so he could fuck right into his center.

The scholar struck so deep that Vergil felt fathomless. Arkham increased his speed to a point that it stole Vergil’s breath. His body jarred from the unrelenting, magnificent cock, setting up a steady rocking motion that lulled Nero just when the sweet baby had started to fuss a little. 

Again and again, transcendently deep inside. It was bliss. He imagined Arkham really could force his cock right up through his cervix, still gaping from Nero’s passage, and the mental image of having torrents of that man’s potent cum poured right into his uterus was almost too much. It violently twisted the knot of pleasure building in Vergil’s belly until he shook. All Vergil knew was that the rawness of his hungry cunt equaled his feverish anticipation. 

“You’re close,” Arkham said, but Vergil could tell from his panting that he wasn’t far either. His stamina was impressive, but not endless. “You’re tightening up on me. Do you know how good that feels? Squeezing me as if you never want me to leave you empty. I’m going to fill you full of my seed until you bear my fruit again.”

The very suggestion made something inhuman quiver inside Vergil, which might have been why he wailed when Arkham started kneading his clit again. It only took a scant few seconds before Vergil was gasping and trembling all over in the throes of his climax. His eyes squeezed shut, white-hot pleasure overloading his senses, and he barely even felt Arkham’s cock spasming inside him, no doubt pumping him full of that promised cum and prolonging Vergil’s frenzy.

It took a long time for him to drift back down from the high, made even longer when Arkham started lazily fucking into him while his cock slowly softened. His legs, still held up by Arkham’s grip on them, twitched with each languid thrust that sent aftershocks rippling up through Vergil’s throbbing pussy and clit. It drove him mad that this man could drag out his pleasure until he was drained and helpless beneath him.

Eventually, Arkham settled his legs back down on the bed, and Vergil took a quick glance at his son, noting that Nero had finished feeding. Luckily, the child didn’t seem to have been much disturbed from his meal by the rough sex, otherwise Vergil might have to cut Arkham’s hands off as punishment. They were useful but far from the man’s best feature.

Arkham was watching him again, and Vergil hurriedly pulled himself together. He was sated enough to be able to stare back with confidence. “Are you finished?” Vergil asked coolly.

He hated the sly smile that curled that man’s mouth. “Are  _ you _ ? Have you had enough of what only I can give you?” The finally flaccid cock pulled out of him, and Vergil’s body was healed enough now that he could feel the veritable flood of cum streaming out. Just like it did every time, too much for him to contain. “It seems I’ll have to clean you up again, my darling.”

Disgust cleared the rest of the fog from his mind, and Vergil glared the entire time that Arkham washed his body. He adjusted Nero in his arms, letting his sleepy son rest more comfortably against his skin. The scholar had made himself useful so far, but the time was drawing close that he would no longer be needed. Vergil was going to kill him when they completed their scheme, and Nero would never hear a word of the man.

He might have to figure out a way to preserve that cock, however. It really was incredible.


	2. Seraphic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero doesn't believe in Sparda or the Order of the Sword's great works, but that's alright. Sanctus has enough faith to fill them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Content Warnings: Non-con elements, age gap, manipulation, abuse of authority, Nero has a pussy and a dick, Sanctus is a creep, ritualistic breeding, potential pregnancy
> 
> Sanctus is gross and terrible and apparently I like that. Also, there’s a bit in the Deadly Fortune novelization where Credo says he actually wanted Nero to undergo the Ascension Ceremony to be turned into an ‘angel,’ which is why he was so eager for Nero to make a good impression on Sanctus. Apologies if there are any typos. I rushed the editing a bit on this one.

Nero chewed the inside of his cheek when the guard pushed open the double doors and told him to go inside. He’d never been this far into the castle before and definitely never in this particular room. A bedroom. A really fancy bedroom. The whole thing sent his nerves into overdrive, and he didn’t know if he was overreacting or if his instincts were trying to warn him of some seriously bad shit. 

The door clicked shut behind him like a bear trap snapping closed on his leg, but he tried to calm down. The Vicar of Sparda himself had been the one to summon him for a private meeting, so it wasn’t like he could really say no without risking being booted out of the knights. And besides, Sanctus had been… not what Nero expected, if he was honest.

Credo was so excited to introduce the two of them, talking Nero up to an embarrassing degree for some reason. The old man had just stared at him the entire time Credo rambled before offering a kindly smile. He’d been downright respectful, asked how Nero was doing and if he felt like he was getting the support he needed. Sanctus had even called him ‘Sir Nero’ which was a far cry from the other Order leaders who usually whispered behind his back that he was an irredeemable ‘little devil.’ He wasn’t used to that kind of treatment.

Most of their meetings were like that, and Sanctus took the time to get to know about Nero and his past where most people blew him off as the sulky black sheep of the knights. It wasn’t until the last time he’d bumped into the Vicar that things got... weird. They’d been alone, but the hand that had skimmed over his abdomen and elsewhere didn’t feel like the grandfatherly touches from before. Nero wasn’t entirely sure what was going to happen this time, but he also wasn’t sure what he could do about it.

Glancing around nervously, he took in the pleasantly crackling fireplace, the elegant paintings on the walls, and the lush drapes framing the doors out to the balcony. This was one of the nicest rooms he’d ever seen, and he wondered if maybe the Dark Knight, if he was at all  _ real _ , actually had stayed here back in the day.

It was the bed that made his insides squirm, though. Those wine-red silk sheets just screamed for someone to get fucked on them.

“I hope you’ll excuse the delay. There were a few things I wanted to attend to before I gave you my undivided attention.”

Nero jumped and spun around at the voice behind him. Sanctus didn’t seem to notice as he closed the doors again, but Nero definitely didn’t miss that he flipped the lock too. Oh crap. This didn’t feel right at all.

“It’s fine,” Nero croaked. He cleared his throat, not liking how tight it felt. Everything was going to be fine. He was blowing this out of proportion.

The old man turned towards him. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here.”

“Uh, kinda. What can I do for you?”

Sanctus folded his hands over each other and moved further into the room, offering a reassuring smile. “Are you aware, dear boy, that Sparda is said to have silver hair and blue eyes? Just like yours.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nero said carefully. “Captain Credo’s parents told me. That’s why they took me in.” He tried not to fidget too much when Sanctus got closer.

“It’s quite interesting, isn’t it? That you share such a very rare trait. And you have no family to lay claim to you.”

Nero shifted his weight onto one foot. “What are you getting at?”

Shit, that was rude. He should watch his mouth for once considering this was his boss.

Sanctus nodded and stepped right up into Nero’s personal space. “I’m sure many would see it as a pitiable thing, especially with as small as our flock is. But I believe this is a sign.”

“A... sign?” Nero felt like he was going to throw up for a second when the old man’s hand settled on his arm.

“You, Nero, are touched by divinity,” Sanctus said, voice gravely serious. “You are blessed by the Savior.”

Bullshit. Complete garbage, and Nero knew it. He sure as fuck hadn’t been blessed by anyone, god or no. But he couldn’t say that, so he kept his mouth shut. The hand slid up his bicep, over his shoulder, and settled on the side of his neck. He was slightly taller than the Vicar, but somehow Nero had never felt smaller in his life.

“You are a gift to us, and we must respond with all our gratitude,” Sanctus declared. “As our lord’s representative here on earth, I am honored to take on the task.”

“A gift? W-what does that mean?” No one had ever called him a gift. And what task was he talking about?

The hand slipped around to cup the back of his head, and Nero stopped. It was a careful touch, gentle but somehow controlling. “It means you were given to us by Sparda, a bearer of his blood sent to walk among his chosen and share his grace.”

“I… I don’t…” Nero’s tongue felt like it was made of lead. It was hard to speak, and he flinched when Sanctus placed a finger against his lips to silence him.

“I know that your faith is not the strongest, but perhaps that is because we haven’t shown you the respect that one such as you deserves. Let us begin by cleansing your mortal flesh.”

Oh, fuck fuck fuck. Was this really happening? Cold hands slid up under his shirt to push off his clothes. Nero didn’t know what to do. If he wanted to, he could crack this old fart like a twig, but he couldn’t make himself act to stop this. It was all too strange, too fast, his mind racing to catch up. Sanctus pulled off his jacket and unzipped the red hooded vest. They fell to the floor and left Nero feeling more exposed than baring his skin ever had.

“I-I’m not sure…” Nero stammered, but the old man was focused elsewhere. Sanctus’ hands kept trailing over his torso. Thin. Spidery. Dry. It sent a sick chill rolling over him, and Nero couldn’t suppress a shiver.

“Absolutely flawless,” Sanctus murmured. His eyes followed his exploring fingers. “So firm and yet supple. No marks. No scars. That’s quite rare for a knight of the Order. Especially one who takes on such dangerous missions all by himself.”

“I don’t really get scars,” Nero blurted, abs tensing when the Vicar caressed them. “Never have.”

Holy shit, what was going on? Why was he still talking? Why wasn’t he running the hell away? Was that even a choice? If he bailed, he’d be punished for sure. Normally, that possibility didn’t faze him, but this was the Vicar of Sparda, head of the entire Order. 

Sanctus smiled at him again, and it turned Nero’s stomach right over. “That is yet another sign of your blessing. Sparda protects you.”

It was such utter bullshit, but Nero couldn’t honestly tell if the man believed it or not. Maybe he was that crazy, or maybe he just wanted free reign to feel up some young kid that caught his eye. But the hands on his body were strangely gracious, like they were touching a priceless treasure rather than the bastard orphan that no one wanted.

Nero inhaled when the Vicar reached for his belt and undid the buckle. He should stop this, really he should. “I… I don’t know about this.”

Sanctus spoke calmly to him, “I can see you’re concerned, but you have nothing to fear. You are a child of Sparda, and whatever offerings you share with me will be spread to those...  _ close _ to you.”

The old man might as well have punched him in the gut. Credo and Kyrie. That’s who he meant. Was that a threat? Or a genuine offer of helping them if Nero gave him what he wanted? What was he supposed to do? His heart started to bang on his ribs.

Haltingly, at Sanctus’ urging, Nero kicked off his boots and pushed his pants and underwear down to step out of them. Now he was completely naked, and the gleam in the old man’s eyes sent a prickle of gooseflesh over Nero’s body. If Sanctus just wanted to get his jollies by groping him he could deal with that, but if he really meant it about all this Sparda nonsense, he wasn’t sure where this might go.

“Lay down on the bed,” Sanctus commanded, and Nero did, mind clamoring for some route out of all this.

The sheets were soft against his bare skin, but he couldn’t enjoy it, not when Sanctus dipped his hands into some kind of wildly ornate pot set on a side table. It looked like it contained a clear, slippery oil, and Nero tensed. He was dreading what came next. It wasn’t a surprise when Sanctus froze right after pushing Nero’s thighs apart.

Nero knew his… equipment wasn’t the same as most men’s. He was a knight. He’d shared a space with the others long enough to see that having a pussy in addition to his dick was different. The question was how the Vicar was going to react. He was probably going to freak out and declare that Nero wasn’t blessed at all but was some kind of abomination that should be-

“Hah… Another sign.”

Nero blinked at him, not expecting the indulgent grin that spread on Sanctus’ face. “What?”

“The Savior was the same,” Sanctus said. His eyes sparkled with something that Nero really didn’t like. “He was able to both give and receive life, you see. It’s not common knowledge, but I am  _ certain _ that you have his blessing now. Have you ever… shared yourself with anyone?”

Fucking fuck. Nero glanced away. Sanctus was asking if he was a virgin. “No,” he said, telling the truth. He’d never let anyone even  _ see _ his pussy before. 

“Good, that’s good. You have kept yourself pure, but we must cleanse your earthly form so we may shower you with our devotion to the Savior.”

If he whimpered a little when Sanctus’ hand closed over his dick, it didn’t seem to deter the old man any. Right, okay. Groping it was. Ritual cleansing hand job, however the hell that worked. He should be protesting or doing something, but the mention of those close to him rang loudly in his head and held him still.

Nero tried not to move his hips at the sensation of someone stroking him, biting his lip when the fragrant oil dripped on his shaft. Up and down, sweeping over the tip and back down to his base. There must have been something special about the lube because his cock was beginning to feel pleasantly warm, and Nero was getting hard despite the disgusted queasiness roiling in his stomach.

“Yes, it feels good, doesn’t it?” Sanctus said. Nero hated it, but having someone else touch him like this, almost reverent… It was so different. The fingers moved down further and prodded at his entrance. He swallowed hard when they toyed with his lips, light touches at first, before slightly entering him.

“Ah…!” Nero’s hips bounced a little, and his face got hot. He’d always been hesitant to experiment with himself. Most of his life was spent with no privacy, and he didn’t want anyone to find out he was different from the others. The Vicar seemed fascinated, though, exploring Nero’s body like it contained precious secrets to be uncovered.

He’d never been touched like this in his life.

“You are a marvel,” the old man said. Sanctus watched him carefully when he slid one finger in deep. Sucking in a breath, Nero drew his legs up anxiously. The warming oil was having an effect on his pussy too, making it more sensitive, and Sanctus was driving that feeling in further, sweeping his fingers around until he’d coated Nero’s insides.

One finger. Then two. At three, Nero’s entrance stretched just a little, a slight burning, but the lube was working as it intended and eased the invasion. Sliding in and out, pushing in deep until the bony knuckles pressed into the soft spot of skin right above his asshole. And then the fingers curled and probed, digging around to rub against a spot that made Nero jerk and his legs twitch. His breath hitched, and his heart raced faster as a knot of need formed low in his belly.

When Sanctus pulled his hand away, he held it up for Nero to see. The fingers spread apart to show a shiny, sticky wetness that coated them. “I believe you’re almost ready,” Sanctus said. “Now that you’ve been cleansed with the oil, let us christen your womb with Sparda’s holy seed.”

Nero’s mind immediately rebelled. He had a damn good idea of what that meant, and Sanctus stripping off all those layers of fancy robes confirmed it. His stomach rebelled at the sight of the wrinkled skin being revealed. Liver spots. Slight rolls where taut muscle had atrophied with age. And, of course, the sagging cock and balls dangling down.

Oh shit. This was going way past just feeling him up. “Hold on,” Nero said quickly, struggling to sit up. “I’m not… Look, I think you’ve got the wrong idea--”

“I do not,” Sanctus cut him off, and Nero went still at the tone of authority. “I know about you, Nero. I know that you wield a sword that requires incredible strength to control, that your injuries heal unnaturally quick. You have abilities that are far beyond any human. Do you think that’s just a coincidence?”

He squeezed his eyes shut when the bed dipped under the old man’s weight, and Nero could feel the warmth of the body settling between his thighs. Oh no, no, no. This wasn’t happening. This was a nightmare.

“Nero, child, look at me.” 

Fighting his urge to hide in the only way he could, Nero did as he was commanded. Because he didn’t have a choice, he reminded himself. Kyrie and Credo’s lives were on the line.

Sanctus reached out and caught his hands. “You are a benediction for those of us who have lived our lives for the Savior. You might not believe, but we do, and we shall not turn away what was given to us.”

Was this guy for real? Did he seriously buy this? Nero’s fingers flexed in Sanctus’ grip.

“It’s your turn, child. Anoint me with the oil so I may fulfill my duty as Sparda’s ordained proxy,” the old man ordered.

Wait, what? Just laying on his back and letting this old creep fuck him for the good of the Order was bad enough, but he was supposed to help too? Nero shouldn’t be doing this. He should leap out of the bed and run until his legs fell off. Sanctus watched him, waiting patiently and still smiling like he knew something that Nero didn’t.

And maybe he did. He was in charge here, and Nero was a puppet whose strings he could pull in any way he liked.

Swallowing down the burn of bile, Nero dipped his fingers into the pot near the bed and wrapped them around the flaccid, crooked cock. It didn’t feel like Nero’s own. The skin was thin, dry until the oil coated it. There were parts of it that were kind of thick, though, like scar tissue pulling it to the side and giving it a strange curve.

He wasn’t exactly an expert in giving hand jobs, but he worked over the shaft, kneeling in front of Sanctus who leaned back on his haunches and pushed his dick insistently into Nero’s shaking hands. Up. Down. Over the head. Down once more to smear oil over the wrinkly sack. Trying to mimic what Sanctus had done to him and keep his lunch down at the same time.

Nero didn’t know how long he was doing it, only that the cock gradually woke up. The sideways curve was exaggerated as the blood began to fill the organ and lift it upwards, and he dipped his fingers back into the oil a few more times until he’d managed to work Sanctus up sufficiently. Now that he was erect, Nero reluctantly had to admit the old man was probably pretty impressive in his youth. Just looking at the misshapen, wrinkly dick made his mouth dry.

“Very good,” Sanctus said. At least the old man sounded a little breathy from getting jerked off like that. “Now lie back, and we will consecrate your hallowed womb with the Savior’s bounty.”

Hallowed womb. Savior’s bounty. Sweet fuck, this was so wrong. But what choice did he have? Sanctus had all the power, and Nero would be damned if he ruined Kyrie and Credo’s futures just to spare himself. They’d done so much for him. They were the  _ only _ ones who had. He owed them everything. The touch gliding over the tops of his thighs was strangely soothing and appreciative, and Nero crawled back a bit to lie flat on the bed. Sanctus’ still slick hands traveled up the inside of his thighs to push them apart far enough for the old man to settle in.

Nero tried to keep his breathing even when Sanctus’ palm came to rest on his hip, and a quick, regrettable, glance showed the old man steadying his cock in his other hand. Staring up at the ceiling instead, Nero’s guts writhed at the feeling of something blunt against his slit. He sucked in air and held it, the pressure building until the tip suddenly breached him. The pressure increased when Sanctus kept pushing deeper, rocking his hips a few times and making the burning stretch of Nero’s walls worse, taking his damn time until the old man was fully inside him.

Oh god, what was he doing? He needed to get out of here. But he couldn’t.

“Aaah, but you are so tight and welcoming. You are more sublime than I could have ever imagined,” Sanctus whispered. The blush came back to Nero’s face at the words. This felt so, so wrong, but praise was such a rare thing that he couldn’t help but respond to it. 

Sanctus leaned down over Nero to plant his hands above the younger man’s shoulders, his balls laying on Nero’s ass and his drooping, parchment-like skin rubbing on Nero’s chest. The contrast between the soft body pinning him down and his own only added to the unreality of the whole situation. It was the worst Nero had ever felt in his life. Caged. Condemned. And so horribly full of this old man.

The Vicar pulled his hips away and slid back easily. All the oil and Nero’s natural juices made the penetration almost frictionless, and Nero held in a whine at the way it added to the tightness in his belly. He hated it, hated how each thrust was actually making him feel good. He wanted to claw his skin off and burn it to ash.

A hand lifted his thigh awkwardly. “Wrap around me,” Sanctus insisted. Nero hesitated but shifted his legs so his calves rested on the back of the Vicar’s. It spread his knees farther apart, and the old man’s cock slid in deeper. “Like that, yes. You’re so obedient,” the Vicar groaned. They were pressed together tightly now, chest to chest, hips to hips, leaving Nero no room to even imagine escape.

Again and again, Sanctus rolled his pelvis against Nero. Pulling out, pushing in, emptying and then filling. Nero clenched his fists in the luxurious sheets when the old man sped up. The thrusts weren’t quite hard enough to feel really good, but the increasing speed still cranked Nero’s need just a bit more each time he was filled. Sanctus was already breathing hard, so hopefully this would be over soon. Maybe he’d be satisfied with just this once, and Nero could scrub the memory off his skin, hiding it from everyone else.

“You feel so good,” Sanctus said against Nero’s ear. The humid breath puffing over his cheek intensified the nausea churning in his stomach. “You are truly divine, my child. I am honored… for our Savior to work through me... to fill you with his glory.”

Sanctus kissed him then, and Nero came very close to puking when those chapped, too fleshy lips mashed against his own. No matter how reverential Sanctus was, Nero didn’t want this. Did he? His fingers squeezed on the sheets until they hurt, but Sanctus was already so close to coming he thankfully didn’t have enough air to kiss for long.

The old man withdrew slightly, and Nero almost relaxed until he felt the cold, gaunt hand wrap around his cock. “Go on now. All of your body is a gift. Let us not waste any part of it.”

Sanctus had slowed down his fucking of Nero’s pussy, but the hand grabbing his cock was surprisingly sure, and Nero bit down on his lip when the pressure in his groin started to become overwhelming. His cunt was still being filled over and over, Sanctus making sure to cram himself deep enough in that his balls landed heavily on Nero’s ass each time, and with his cock getting pumped continuously he was having trouble catching his breath. The dual sensations were like a key winding a clock. Like a wire twisted tighter and tighter and tighter. A fingertip pressed into the slit in his dick, and Nero choked.

It was wretched. He didn’t want this, he didn’t. He was only doing this to protect the people he cared about. But his body didn’t seem to care. His pussy clamped down like it wanted to milk the old man’s degenerate cock for all it was worth, and his dick twitched crazily in the hand gripping it. Oh fuck, he was so wound up. He felt like he was losing his mind.

“Please,” Nero gasped. His back bowed slightly for a second and then his hips lifted to join Sanctus’ in search of relief. “I-I can’t--” It was too much. He felt like he was going to snap. His vision blurred, and his hips kept jumping hungrily to meet the cock pounding into him. It shoved his own dick harder into Sanctus’ fingers.

“Give in to me, Nero,” Sanctus said. “Give us Sparda’s blessing. Give us your joy.” 

The Vicar rammed his hips forward with shocking force, striking against something in Nero’s center that sent pleasure lancing into the tangle of need in his groin. He did it twice more, and suddenly the aching knot detonated. It was too much, electricity in his veins, an explosion rocking his core. Nero shattered like a mirror hit with a rock.

“Ah-! Ffuu---! Nnnng!” His body convulsed. His abs fluttered, cock spasming, walls clenching and releasing over and over. He curled up and saw the thick, white cum erupting out of his dick and splattering all over his pecs and stomach.

“Y-yes, that’s it. Your seed is as precious a-as your womb. Share with us all of your tributes.” Sanctus worked Nero furiously to get every drop out, but the old man’s hips slammed home a few last times before the cock inside him throbbed in release.

Sanctus groaned low, and if Nero hadn’t been deep in the throes of his own blinding orgasm, he would have been horrified by the feeling of cum being pumped into him. The old man shuddered, hips stuttering a few times and pushing the cum in even further, before collapsing on Nero.

For a long moment, Sanctus lay on top of him, pinning him down, while Nero could feel the cock going soft inside his still fluttering cunt. But as the pleasure rolled back and Nero came down from his high, the disgust settled in deep. Deep down, low in his belly. Right down to where Sanctus’ seed stained his insides. He’d just lost his virginity to this creepy, obsessed old man.

But he hadn’t had a choice. Sanctus had threatened Kyrie and Credo. Hadn’t he?

He flinched when the Vicar traced a thumb over his cheek. “Precious child of Sparda,” Sanctus wheezed, still not recovered. “You are a sign that my leadership... is sanctioned by the Savior himself, I know it. And from you will spring the glorious future of our Order.”

Oh, holy shit. Nero quickly turned his face away, trying not to vomit.

This was insane! Could the old bastard really get him pregnant? Was that even possible? He didn’t want to think about it, but he didn’t have a choice at all, he told himself. Weighed down by the limp Vicar, spongy, decrepit flesh still buried inside him and weak hands petting all over his body, Nero inhaled through his nose to fight back the nausea and tears. 

Eventually, Sanctus pulled out and rolled bonelessly over on the bed next to him, breathing so ragged that Nero had a nasty, brief hope that the maniac would have a heart attack and die right there. The old man quickly fell asleep pushed up against his side, but Nero couldn’t bring himself to move away from the body heat making his skin crawl. He was trapped now, and no one could save him.


	3. Nonpareil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight, maybe Dante shouldn't have underestimated the sorcerous millionaire with an army of demons at his disposal. Arius isn't insulted, though, not when the Devil Hunter gives him the perfect chance to sate his curiosity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Content Warnings: Non-con/very slightly dub-con, manipulation, weird demon biology, demonic gang-bang, rough sex, cervical penetration, experimentation, Dante has a dick and pussy, restraints, forced breeding, potential pregnancy, belly bulge, demons with animal characteristics, Arius doesn’t kink shame, But Arius also has all the kinks, Dante is a bit of a masochist, demon/human sex
> 
> I’m using this chapter to indulge in my love of really weird, kinky demon biology, so if you’re NOT into Dante taking all kinds of freaky demon dongs while Arius rambles about the science behind it, this chapter probably isn’t for you. I would’ve included the tentacle boss demon, but this fic was already getting long.
> 
> Arius frankly seemed like the only person who was having fun in DMC2, though, so writing him was a good time, and I took some liberties with him because there are so few scenes and only a little information to go on. I figured he does come from a wealthy family, but he also did work hard to become a sorcerer of considerable ability. It seemed like it would be an interesting point that he views magic as a science too, requiring lots of study and experimentation. Also I don't think all the demons he has at his command are ones he made, but whatever. This was more fun.

It would be fair to say that Dante hadn’t really taken any of this Vie De Marli business particularly seriously. Lucia and Matier might have been understandably worried, but some crazy guy trying to resurrect a demon lord was just another day at the office for him, only slightly more interesting than ‘Help! I’ve got Arachne in my attic, and they’re tearing up grandma’s old quilts!’

But maybe he should have been paying more attention. And maybe he shouldn’t have dismissed the loony CEO with a demon fetish so completely.

He hadn’t been caught off guard when the secretary demons jumped him the second he waltzed into Arius’ office. They went down after a few shots of Ebony and Ivory and a couple of slashes from Rebellion, but, somehow, whether it was a stealth ability or concealing magic or whatever, Dante didn’t catch on to the creepy-crawly demon until it landed on his back and stabbed him.

Normally that wouldn’t be a problem. He’d been run through with all kinds of things in the past, but this… was definitely different. The spikey tail buried itself in and wrapped around his spinal cord, and that’s when it all went sideways. Suddenly, he didn’t have control of his limbs anymore. Dante tried to reach up and rip the insect off him, but his hand wouldn’t so much as twitch.

Well, shit.

Arius sprung up out of his overstuffed chair. “I’m impressed!” he exclaimed. “You’ve come all this way, defeated all my minions and traps. It seems the son of Sparda is everything that people say he is, including frequently careless. Convenient for me, no?”

“You… what…?” Dante struggled to make his tongue work. Not being able to talk was going to be a drag. It was kind of his thing.

“This creature is an Infestant. You saw them earlier controlling my tank and helicopter,” Arius explained when he came around from behind the overcompensatingly huge desk. “But they have the ability to merge with demons as well, and it seems you’re still enough of a devil for them to get a hold on.”

Fantastic. That sounded like a great time. Dante focused himself until he took a single step forward. It stopped the CEO for a second, but when it was clear Dante couldn’t do more than that, Arius beamed at him.

“Such _power_ you have. Oh, how I envy you to possess it so naturally. But in any case, it seems I won’t be able to control you quite as thoroughly as I hoped.” Arius came to where Dante was frozen and ran a gloved hand over his cheek. “It should be enough for us to have some fun, however.”

“...Buy me… dinner… first,” Dante slurred.

Arius laughed and stepped away, practically prancing back over to lean on his desk. “Still full of such fight! I feel like I should make use of that… _spunk_.”

The man motioned towards himself, and Dante’s feet moved on their own. It was a bizarre sensation, but when he caught his reflection in one of the huge mirrors hanging on the wall, he saw the horrible bug-like thing hugging tight to his back. It drove him forward until Arius held up a hand to stop.

“Excellent,” the man said. “Now why don’t you get comfortable. Take off your clothes.”

Damn. This bastard really wasn’t messing around, and Dante was a little impressed when the critter steering him handled all the buckles and straps holding his outfit together with ease. Arius’ bushy eyebrows shot up when Dante slid his pants down and kicked them off.

“Well now. That’s quite an interesting combination.” He flicked Dante’s dick before dipping two fingers into his pussy. His gloves came away wet. “That gives us so many options,” Arius said.

“You can… handle me?” Dante asked, trying hard to smirk confidently.

“With that monster?” Arius gestured at Dante’s huge cock. “Not I, no. But I think we might have more fun with the rest of you.”

He snapped his fingers, and Dante felt the energy of a minor hell gate behind him. With a lot of effort, he turned his head just enough to see two of the flying Goat Clan out of the corner of his eye. He hadn’t understood why Arius made these things so damn muscular, but maybe that was starting to make sense now.

He snorted. “Think… that’ll scare… me?”

Arius paused to study him for a few seconds. “Hm. You almost sound as if fornicating with demons isn’t new.” The eyebrows jumped again when Dante stared him down. “Oh ho. You _are_ quite uncanny, aren’t you. Either way, why don’t we start small and work our way up?”

Small. Right. Or maybe right. Dante would’ve frowned if he could’ve when he saw the absolutely bizarre organs emerging from under the demons’ fur. They were tube shaped and pink, slowly elongating and wiggling slightly. Neither were fat enough to even make him blink, though.

“Go on, my pets,” Arius said. “Have your way with him. Get it out of your systems, you horny devils.” He laughed at his own joke, and Dante really wished he could at least roll his eyes.

One of the demons grabbed the back of his neck, forcing him to lean forward until he was bent almost double. His ass stuck out, and Arius used the side of his boot to nudge Dante’s feet apart so he was more exposed to them. It wasn’t as if he’d never been in a position like this before, though having an audience was new.

“Get off on… watching?” he bit out.

“And why not?” Arius shrugged. He held out his hand until one of the masked secretaries filled it with a wine glass, and he took a sip. “If I enjoy something, why shouldn’t I have it? I’ve worked hard to have the means to give myself whatever I want. And what I want right now is to watch my creations fuck your brains out, Devil Hunter.”

Dante almost managed to grimace when the weird tube-cock poked his slit. It wriggled inside without much resistance, and he realized his pussy was already drenched, slick dripping down his thighs. He kind of hoped the Infestant was responsible because he didn’t like to think he was _that_ easy.

The goatman bumped its hips against him twice, though the cock seemed to have a mind of its own. It wormed up through Dante, flicking lightly against his walls, hunting for something. He didn’t have enough control to squirm, so he just had to bear the sensation of his pussy getting felt up like this, but a sharp, prolonged pressure told him it had hit as deep as it could get.

“D-damn,” he hissed. “What…?”

“Ah, there we go,” Arius nodded “They have a rather fascinating reproductive mechanic, as I’m sure you’re realizing. The flexible structure of their penis allows them to seek out the best way to impregnate their partner. In the case of humans, which I suspect you might be more like than it seems, they can find that tiny, tiny opening in the cervical barrier, insert the pinpoint tip while gripping on to ensure proper insemination, and ejaculate their seed right inside. Efficient, don’t you think? Just going right to the source.”

“Humans… You know that… how?” Dante asked pointedly.

Arius smirked. “I made my fortune as a man of science, even if most would call it magic. It’s my nature to experiment. If it makes you feel any better, I learned they can’t crossbreed with humans, but then again, who knows how it will be with a half-devil like you?”

Dante let out a grunt, and he trembled a little when the slender shaft butted up tight to the end of his channel, the goatman’s furry hips cupping his ass. He didn’t know how, but he could feel the delicate tip slipping past his opening, and the cock immediately started pumping cum into his womb. Dante could only hang there, bent over, open and helpless. He felt a little gross getting used like this, and while he doubted any of this would take thanks to his particular biology, it was beginning to make him sweat.

It lasted for a good five minutes, a measured pulsating right at his center. Arius went through most of his glass of wine while he silently observed the entire act, but the goatman wasn’t even completely done when its partner yanked it back and ripped its dick out of Dante. The two scuffled, smacking horns into each other, before Arius put his glass aside and clapped his hands loudly.

“Enough!” the CEO snapped. “You’ll both get your turn. Honestly, if you had just a little patience, you might actually be dangerous.”

Dante grit his teeth when the second demon replaced the first at his back. This one had a meatier cock, though it still wasn’t nearly enough to stretch him. He was ready this time, breathing deep when its dick squirmed up his cunt to latch on hungrily. The strange vacuum put a pressure in his guts that felt good, and the cum jetted directly into his uterus in rhythmic, concentrated bursts. Dante tried to ignore the fluttering tickle telling him just how deep the demon had worked itself into him, but he realized he was panting and shivering from the continuous drumming on his cervical membrane.

The feeling kept building, the goatman taking little, unsteady steps forward to get closer to his ass. It’s dick was suctioned to the base of Dante’s pussy and keeping them locked together while it did its damnedest to knock him up, relentlessly pouring in more and more jizz until he swore he could feel it slosh in his belly. Sweat dripped down his cheek and off his chin. His eyes lost their focus.

A needy noise escaped his lips when the autonomous cock abruptly shoved further into him, forcing his cervix open in a bright spark of deep, deep pain, and suddenly he broke. Dante would’ve fallen on his face from how hard his legs shook with his orgasm if the Infestant wasn’t keeping them locked in place.

He gasped and clenched down, abs constricting and releasing, his cock bobbing in front of him, and he realized that the contractions of his inner walls were sucking the demon’s dick even deeper inside him. The mental image of the pink, worm-like member writhing around inside was just too much, and he came again, right on top of the last bomb of pleasure, gasping for air.

It was probably a few minutes before Dante was aware of his own body again even if he couldn’t move much. The wiggling demon dick still danced excitedly in his belly, and he really wished the goatman wasn’t trying to nuzzle him like they’d just had a particularly hot one-night stand.

“Expected… more,” Dante sneered, locking eyes with Arius.

“Really? This is too mundane for you?” Arius laughed. “What an adventurous life you lead. Well, they are almost done with you, and I agree. Let’s move on to something a little more challenging.”

He waved the demon back, and Dante could tell it was reluctant when it pulled out, a few last drips of cum hitting him in the thigh when it’s dick came free. The goatmen retreated off to the side but didn’t leave the room. He wondered what Arius had planned next when the man snapped his fingers again, and Dante felt a sudden burst of powerful demonic energy and heat at his back.

“Now we’re… talking,” he muttered.

Still bent over, he could see the digitigrade legs of the huge bull demon approaching him. Last time he’d tangled with one, the damn thing had been blazing hot, but it seemed like the fire was banked down this time, and when it’s giant, meaty hands grabbed his hips, it didn’t even blister Dante’s skin.

“Furiataurus,” Arius mused, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a swig. “This one is more predictable, as you can imagine. It's just big. Any chance you’re a size queen, son of Sparda?”

He was, actually, but even his eyes widened when he saw what this demon was packing. Its cock rolled out slowly, like an extra limb with a bulbous hook on the end. It dangled down almost to the creature’s knees, and Dante swallowed a little hard when Arius drained his wine and set the empty glass aside.

“I learned this one needs help to mount humans properly. Normally I’d have you strapped onto the breeding table to make it all easier, but I think we’ll try something more freeform,” the man said. 

He grabbed the demon’s cock, lifting and pressing the hooked tip into Dante’s slit. A bit at a time, using his fingers to open Dante enough to cram it in, Arius kept talking, “It takes a little work, but it’s worth it in the end. The ejaculation is frankly enviable, and I heard quite a bit of moaning while the test subjects-- Yes, like that!”

Dante’s groan forced out through his teeth when the bull impatiently shoved its hips forward and slid a good bit more of its huge cock inside. It repeated three more times, heavy thrusts spearing him more and more open until he wondered if something might actually tear. His walls burned with the incredible stretch, and the last thrust almost knocked Dante right off his feet. There was no way the whole dick was getting up in him without doing ridiculous damage, but he could already see his stomach bulging from the intrusion.

“Ah, I think you have room for just a bit more,” Arius insisted. He pulled Dante’s labia aside, gloved fingers making space, and Dante nearly screamed when the bull lifted him by the hips to impale him on itself. 

His head spun disorientingly, so full he could barely stand it. The demon’s tip was mashed hard against the back of his pussy, no vaguely pleasant suckling to coax him to a climax this time. Dante couldn’t move. He was stuck.

“Splendid!” Arius crowed. “You took so much in! I must say, I’m really impressed. You’re so wet, that went much smoother than usual. Now, I’ve had reports that this can be uncomfortable, but I think you can handle it. Furiataurus… _breed him_.”

The demon immediately complied. Dante gasped when it raised him up off its cock and brought him down hard. It jarred him, bashing against his bruised cervix, and then the demon did it again. And again, and again. Bare feet hanging in the air, being manipulated by the grip on his hips, Dante couldn’t ground himself. Over and over, the beast worked him like a sleeve, fucking him up and down on its gigantic cock until he started to shake. Each lift left him yawning and empty. Each downstroke wrenched him open, stretching him all over again.

“Unn…. Huuhnnn,” Dante moaned.

He was just a doll, a warm hole for a barely sentient creature. In the past, the thought helped him bury the less pleasant memories kicking around in his brain, but this time it wasn’t his own choice to get screwed. He could see the mammoth cock moving under his skin, a constantly rolling bump in his otherwise flat stomach. Dante gasped again as the demon’s tip glanced over a particularly good spot inside him, and Arius gestured at the bull. “Do that again. Yes. Just like that. Oh, you like that, don’t you? I bet you’re enjoying yourself more than you expected.”

The fullness and the non-stop strikes against his g-spot made his body feel painfully tight. Dante didn’t want to respond, but the Infestant made him answer. “Y-yes. Feels good. Want… more,” he babbled.

“Are you going to get off on a demon’s cock? It sounds like this isn’t the first time. Be a dear and fuck him a little harder, my pet. And faster.”

The bull hauled him down, and Dante choked on his own saliva. Rising and falling, bouncing hard and fast just like Arius had ordered. Stars flickered in his vision. That expectant tightness in his belly was unbearable, and after only a few more thrusts, Dante came dry. His walls tried to clamp down on the demon, but the cock was just too big. It felt like clenching on a brick, too hard, too solid. His legs spasmed and flailed without him having even the slightest control, and when he finally came down from his peak, he ached in his core. The demon kept fucking him right through it all.

“Oh, that’s a very nice face,” Arius praised. He watched Dante flop around bonelessly like a toy with each vicious thrust. “It’s going to take a while longer for Furiataurus to finish, but maybe I can occupy you in the meantime.”

Dante probably should’ve been expecting this part, he thought distantly. Arius shucked off his overcoat and gloves and undid his pants without any shred of self-consciousness. The only surprising thing was that he was pretty damned hung for a human, and Dante’s mouth started to water. It might’ve been the Infestant again, but he was so out of it from his second orgasm that he couldn’t really tell.

“Bring his head down here,” Arius commanded. “No, no, don’t stop breeding, you silly creature. I just want this part.” He smiled darkly when he caught Dante’s chin before the bull demon could tip him too far forward. “Now open wide, Devil Hunter.”

Dante’s mouth dropped slack, and Arius shoved his dick right in. It was big enough to pull at the ligaments in his jaw and added an ache in his face to the one in his guts. His tongue moved automatically, pushing up against the velvety, firm flesh, and whatever gag reflex he had these days completely failed to kick in when Arius grabbed his hair and rammed down his throat.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Arius crooned. He didn’t have to do much work because the bull was shoving Dante forward and pushing the cock in and out of his mouth at a furious pace. “I have to say, the fact that you are so powerful and undefeatable makes this _so_ much better!”

The guy really was a fruitcake, but a little voice in the back of Dante’s head said he was right. Being completely at their mercy, unable to resist, not having to make any decisions or even do anything to please himself. Some part of him reveled in it. All he had to do was feel.

“Not too much now,” Arius admonished when Dante’s tongue tried to swirl around his head and suck. “I don’t have quite the refractory period I had in my youth, and I’m not ready to be done just yet. It seems our friend is getting close, however.”

That was pretty clear. The bull’s rhythm was failing badly, and it slammed Dante roughly onto it’s gargantuan dick a few more times before its back bowed up, and its thighs quivered. Oh. Hot damn.

It was a lucky thing that Arius pulled out of his mouth, saliva trailing and snapping between them, because Dante couldn’t breath when the cock filling every last bit of space in him throbbed. It was maddening, the pulsating flesh working over every good spot inside him and flipping the orgasmic switch so hard he almost blacked out.

Dante’s pussy convulsed again, muscles still not able to clench much on the rock hard dick, but it seemed to work well enough to milk the bull and prolong its low, rumbling groan. There wasn’t even room for all that cum, most of it shooting out of him and down his thighs. The demonic whisper always in the back of his brain said this was a waste.

“Didn’t I tell you it was impressive?” Arius said conversationally, like they were discussing the weather and not in the middle of a demonic gang-bang. “I should probably tell you about a reproductive study that suggests an orgasm can increase the amount of ejaculate that is retained by up to fifteen percent and improve the chances of conception. With how many you’ve had so far, I’m liking our odds.”

Dante’s head was spinning too hard for him to really take in what the man was gabbing about, but he groaned when the bull’s limp cock dropped out of him. The world suddenly wheeled around when Arius made another motion at his artificial demon. It pulled Dante up, and he found his back resting against the monster’s chest, big hands cupping his thighs so they were spread wide apart. His gaping, empty pussy was put on display for Arius who whistled appreciatively.

“My, oh my, son of Sparda. This is a sight,” Arius said. “I know it’s not proper to say, but I really do have a taste for, what’s the phrase? Sloppy seconds? Or fourths in this case. Now that my creations are done seeding you, I think I’ll indulge in one of my own vices.”

The man’s spit-coated cock slid right in with how stretched and messy Dante was. Demon jizz turned out to be a hell of a lube, and there was barely any friction when Arius started pounding into him, bottoming out with each stroke. He could feel his body regenerating the damage the bull had done, though, and soon enough, Dante’s pussy was squeezing around the shaft violating him. This shouldn’t feel so good, but the shadowy, buried pieces of himself craved being filled like this.

Arius sucked air in through his teeth. “Ooooh, you’re grabbing on to me so nicely. I thought you’d be all wrung out and loose by this point, but -- aaaah -- you’ve recovered already. And here I wanted to take my time getting to know every part of your anatomy. It’s always so much sweeter if my partner joins me, however.”

Dante tried to hiss when Arius’ hand wrapped around his desperate, neglected cock to start pumping him. He didn’t really need the added stimulation if he was honest, but it ratcheted up the pressure in his belly fast and fiercely, and he knew this wasn’t going to take long.

The man in white sped up his assault, wet skin slapping and squishing with a sound that went right to Dante’s groin. He felt a bead of drool slide out from the corner of his mouth and moaned a little when Arius took a tiny step closer and changed his angle to rub more consistently on the spot that was making Dante’s dick twitch in his hand. Damn, how did this feel so good?

“If only everyone was this easy to please,” Arius quipped breathlessly. “You have no idea how much work it takes to satisfy my shareholders.”

It had been a long time since he’d been this fucked out, and Dante arched involuntarily when Arius thrust in particularly hard. His legs shifted, but he couldn’t go very far with the demon holding him up. Arius obliged him with a wave of a hand, and the bull wrapped Dante around the man’s hips, heels hooking the back of his thighs. With his legs pushed together, Arius’ already impressive cock felt even bigger.

“F-ffuu---” Dante’s tongue wasn’t quite unglued yet, but he used the newfound leverage to bring them together as forcefully as he liked it, fucking himself on the human in front of him.

“Getting so restless,” Arius panted. “I am too, which is good. I think I won’t be able to keep control of you much longer. It’s -- unnn -- a shame because there’s still so much I want to try. Maybe once I’ve -- aaah! -- taken Argosax’s power I can make you a part of my menagerie.”

That shouldn’t have been appealing, but the bit of Dante’s brain that just wanted to lie down and never get up again thought it might be a little nice to have someone always telling him what to do. Especially if the orders involved getting railed by fantastic demon cocks every day.

Arius’ thrusts were getting rougher, less steady, and Dante heaved for air. The tight burn in his abdomen was brutal, his legs shaking uncontrollably shoulders rocking forward in anticipation. He was going to come again, but he could tell this one would be a whopper.

“So close…” Dante wheezed. Just a little more.

Arius glanced at him with glassy, lustful eyes and widened his stance just a little so he could fuck upward into Dante’s cunt. Just that small change in position meant the tip of his cock slammed into Dante’s center in a burst of pleasurable, nerve searing sparks. It cinched hard on the too dense knot of orgasmic need until he couldn’t breath. One last impact, and Dante unraveled.

“Aaaah--- AAAH!” He always lost control when he came, but this was unreal. His vision tunneled, though he could see his knees jumping, pulling Arius close and pushing him back, trying to get away from the overstimulating pleasure consuming him like a wildfire while also wanting more of it. Arius jerked Dante’s cock eagerly to coax out the ropey bursts of white fluid that landed on his naked abs and pecs.

“You are s-so fascinating…” Arius groaned. “I want to lock you up in my lab and keep you--nnnuuuuhh!”

Curling over and shuddering deeply, Arius’ own release spasmed inside Dante. The man’s groan started low and crept higher until it was a keening whine. His hips withdrew only to shove back in wildly, mixing up the mingled cum from the goatmen, the bull, and himself until it dripped from Dante’s entrance in a pale foam. It was incredible, and Dante felt another climax rip through him right on top of the last.

Euphoria swept him away, leaving him blind to the world around him. He lost track of himself for a while, and Dante didn’t know how much time passed before his senses rebooted and he became aware again. Arius gave a few last, exhausted thrusts before he pulled out and wobbled back a few steps.

“Good… lay, right?” Dante snarked. He still was having some trouble breathing, but he gave Arius a half-hearted grin when the man laughed.

“Most definitely one of the best I’ve ever had,” Arius complimented. “You sucked me dry, you thirsty beast!”

Glancing down, Dante had to admit he was right. There was a whole puddle of cum on the floor below his demolished pussy, and more dribbled out when he squeezed his inner muscles. It was oddly satisfying, if a little disgusting.

“Regrettably, we’ll need to end our little tryst here,” Arius said, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up. “As much as I want to continue, I have a scheme to complete, and you are clearly overcoming the Infestant’s influence. If the sperm my creations so lovingly drowned your uterus in is able to fertilize your eggs, we should find out very soon judging by my past experiments. I’d be so curious to see what you produce.”

“Crazy… bastard,” Dante accused.

Arius just shrugged. “Even if nothing takes, we might have another chance at it. Maybe once I have the power to dominate you permanently, we can renew our affair.”

Dante hit the floor with a thump when the bull abruptly let him go. His knees skidded on the wet marble floor, but he couldn’t get his legs to work well enough to stand up. Whether that was because the Infestant’s hold on him was still too strong or he was just that much of a wreck, Dante couldn’t be sure. He watched Arius swing on his cape with a flourish and strut towards the door.

“I’ll leave my creations here with you in case you’d like another round before you show yourself out,” Arius called. “Feel free to enjoy their assets as you like. The security cameras should capture enough footage for me to use later.” He paused, smiling saucily. “For scientific purposes, of course.”

“Of course,” Dante muttered, shaking his head. 

Oh. That was a good sign. He could at least do that much now.

Arius offered Dante a genteel bow. “And now I must make my exit, dear Devil Hunter. I’m sure we will meet again, but until then, I hope I’ve sated those delightfully depraved appetites of yours. I’m looking forward to next time. Ta-ta!”

The heavy doors banged shut behind the man, and Dante steadied himself when the demons started to crowd around him. He flexed his fingers, considering just how much control he had right now, but it was still a struggle to move. Arius might be right; this might take another round. Or two.


End file.
